


Much to Be Thankful For

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Hannibal cooks for Will, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27727955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Will Graham has relegated himself to his loneliness and solitude for Thanksgiving.  Can a surprise visit from a friend change his evening?
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 30
Kudos: 180





	Much to Be Thankful For

**Author's Note:**

> I had this little idea when I woke up and decided to write it down so you all would have something to read for Thanksgiving. I hope your holiday is wonderful, if you celebrate. If not, it's still a fun little drabble.
> 
> I am grateful for each and every one of you that takes the time to read these stories. You make my days better, just by existing.
> 
> Hearts and body parts,  
> JM

_Small cheer and great welcome_  
_Makes a merry feast._  
_William Shakespeare_

* * *

Will closed his front door with a sigh, leaning wearily against the wood as he fought to keep his head from pounding worse than it already did. Everyone in the office had been so cheerful, ready to leave work and spend time with their families, excitedly chattering away about the fancy meals they were preparing for yet another November evening. It had been a day of fake smiles and nods as if he understood what they were going on about, all while his stomach tightened unpleasantly at their inquiries. _No, I will not be spending my time with my nonexistent family. It’s a TV dinner, a glass of whiskey, and some peace and quiet for me, thanks._

It had all seemed fine until he was closing out the final case for the night. Somehow, after compiling his case notes, he had managed to be one of the last people out of the building, making his way to his car with an air of complete isolation surrounding him. It was bad enough that he had to hear about everybody’s plans, but knowing that he had unconsciously stayed as late as possible to ensure he didn’t have to make any more small talk about his plans was more than a little depressing. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the holidays, but with no family in the area and his tendency to shy away from social situations, Thanksgiving marked the beginning of the few months he hated most out of the year. He despised the looks of pity, the half hearted invitations to parties and holiday dinners. He was just fine being alone, but he didn’t need a constant reminder to bring him loneliness.

Will took another moment to breathe, feeling the solid wood of his front door behind his back, letting it ground him. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t feel better, but staying against his front door all night would do him no good. He hung his jacket on its hook by the door and removed his shoes, moving into the darkened house to light the lamps and start a fire to chase away the cold. His pack barely glanced up from their pile in the living room, content with the warmth they got from one another and full bellies from the free feeder he had recently purchased to ensure they had enough to eat when he was working late on cases. Their mere presence should have been a comfort, but tonight he felt strangely and completely alone. The fire added little warmth to the space, but Will contented himself in the knowledge that it would make a pleasant place for him to eat his meal. 

He made his way to the bedroom and changed into warm flannel pants and a long sleeved Henley before heading into the kitchen to preheat the oven for his dinner. While he may not be eating anything fancy, he could at least ensure it didn’t taste as horrible as it would if he microwaved it. After depositing the container into the oven, he gathered his case notes and the bottle of whiskey from the kitchen cabinet. _Just one drink. Take the edge of the day off and settle in for the night. Not like its going to do any harm, and I have nowhere to be tomorrow_. Will retrieved a glass from the kitchen and added a generous serving of the amber liquid to it before returning the bottle to its place in the cabinet. He managed to make his way to the couch before he took a large sip, shuddering as the liquid slid into his empty stomach, setting off a gentle bomb of pure fire in his gut. The numbness settled in as he picked up the first file, flipping it open to the pictures within. He grimaced at the images before him, lifting his glass to take another sip. _Christ, if this is how every case is going to look, I’m going to need the whole bottle,_ he thought dismally.

***

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but the sudden shriek of the smoke alarm roused him from his fitful rest. Gazing around groggily, it took him a moment to see the cause; there was thick white smoke pouring from his oven where his dinner lay, no doubt, in ruins.

“Shit!” he shouted, leaping from the couch. He hurried to the kitchen in his stupor and turned off he stove before reaching for the alarm to pry the battery from the casing. The shrill noise ceased, leaving behind a deep, disturbing silence. He opened the kitchen window, shuddering at the sudden shock of cool air as the dim fog wafted through. _Of course. Of course this is how the night is going to go. Will have to scrounge something else to eat_. Will looked around the kitchen in the vain hope for something else remotely edible, but his search only yielded a stale loaf of bread, an empty peanut butter jar, and a box of saltines. Thoroughly depressed, Will took the whiskey bottle from the cabinet and sat back on the couch. _Fine. It’s just fine. At least the alcohol will take the edge off the hunger._

Pouring an entirely too full glass, he raised it to his lips, trying to quell his frustration with the ruined meal he had been semi looking forward to. He coughed at the burn of alcohol, setting down his glass to stare into the fire, trying desperately to keep the tears that threatened in their place. _Don’t feel sorry for yourself. It will serve no purpose._

The knock that came to the door took him completely by surprise, so faint he thought he may have imagined it. 

Will paused, glass half raised to his lips, listening to see if he heard the sound again. Sure enough, after a brief pause, three sharp knocks sounded against his front door. Setting the glass down, he cautiously made his way to the foyer and pulled the door to reveal his visitor, a dark figure bundled up against the cold of the evening. 

Hannibal Lecter, his sometimes friend, psychiatrist, and, most recently, his secret obsession, stood on his doorway, holding what appeared to be several large containers. His silver and gold hair shone in the low light of the porch, a dark, well tailored suit showing beneath his overcoat. _Holy hell, he looks amazing. How does he always manage to look that good?_ Shocked into complete silence, Will remained frozen in place, staring at the doctor as if he had never seen him before. Hannibal smiled tentatively, holding out the containers in offering.

“Hello, Will,” he murmured. “Jack told me you were planning to spend the evening alone, so I thought I’d stop by to see how you were faring. May I come in?” Unable to bring himself to speak, Will nodded and stepped back, admitting his guest into his home. Hannibal smiled, a brilliant flash of teeth in the darkness as he stepped over the threshold. Will caught the scent of his spicy aftershave as he passed, his knees going weak at the idea of chasing the scent to where it had warmed on his skin. He wondered wildly what Hannibal's neck would feel like beneath his lips before shutting down the thoughts completely. _Don’t. Don’t you dare make a fool of yourself._ Closing the door quickly behind him, Will turned to find Hannibal setting the containers on the kitchen counter. When the doctor turned back to face him, Will almost laughed at the look on his face.

“Did you… burn something?” Hannibal asked, disgust clear in his voice. Unable to stop himself, Will let the laughter bubble up through his gut and spill from his mouth in a cascade of wild sound. 

“Yeah, my TV dinner," he chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. "I threw it in the oven so it would taste less like shit than it would have if I would have tossed it into the microwave. I fell asleep looking over some cases and woke up to it burning.” Hannibal smiled, nodding sympathetically. 

“I can’t say you would have fared better had it not burned,” he replied wryly. “May I assume that you haven’t eaten?” Will sighed and nodded towards the living room.

“Not food, no. I was just getting started on another glass of whiskey when you knocked.” Hannibal hummed and turned back towards the containers he brought.

“Excellent. I had a small gathering tonight with some of my colleagues. We don’t traditionally celebrate Thanksgiving, but this year left me wanting that experience, so that is what I chose to prepare.” He lifted the lids to reveal a meal plated as beautifully as any five star restaurant, containing all the traditional dishes for a Thanksgiving feast. Will’s mouth began to water at the sight, his stomach clenching uncomfortably in his hunger.

“I-” he paused, unsure of what to say. “Thanks, Hannibal.” The doctor merely nodded, removing the second lid to reveal a variety of desserts.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, setting the lids aside. Picking up the plates, he carried them to the fireplace, setting them down on the table containing Will’s whiskey glass. His mouth turned downward in faint disapproval at the amount of liquid the glass contained. He turned back to meet Will’s gaze, his face unreadable.

“I’d suggest a different choice in beverage with your food,” he murmured, voice as soft as smoke. “I didn’t remember wine, but I’d be happy to make you a glass of water if you’d like.” Will flushed, but he nodded.

“I can get it,” he replied, moving into the kitchen. Hannibal nodded and took a seat on the far end of the couch, picking up the case notes Will had been working on curiously. Will busied himself filling a glass, trying not to think of the man occupying his couch, looking like he did even after a full work day and a dinner party, perusing the notes he had left out. Just the thought of Hannibal in his home was enough make his blood race. The man ticked all his boxes, and although he knew he’d likely never act on his feelings, it was nice having him there, in the quiet solitude of his home. He filled a glass with water and grabbed some silverware before heading into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, he once again eyed his meal.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” he said, even as he picked up the plate. “I would have been fine tonight.” Hannibal smirked, keeping his eyes on the notes before him.

“It was no trouble at all," he murmured distractedly. "I’d like to ensure you finish your meal, then I will get out of your hair and let you enjoy the rest of the evening.” Will’s stomach tightened, blood rushing through his veins as he settled into the couch. He took small bites, wondering how long he could take to consume the food on his plate without being obvious that he was trying to extend the time he had with the handsome doctor. Hannibal smiled, watching him eat with dark, delighted eyes. The fire crackled merrily, filling the room with a pleasant bubble of warmth as they spoke of small matters, the long stretches of silence just as comforting as the food he consumed.

***

“That’s probably one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” Will groaned, stretching back along the couch. Hannibal watched the movement out of the corner of his eye, desperately trying to quell the erection he’d had since walking into the house to find Will disheveled and barely conscious, looking so delightfully fuckable that he wanted to expire on the spot. Had he known that the profiler would be spending the holiday alone, he would have ensured he was cooking for him instead of throwing a party to fill his time. Now, here on the couch, he had never been happier with a decision in his life than he was in that moment. _Lord on high you are a beautiful creature, Will Graham._

“I am happy you enjoyed it,” he finally replied, his voice rough with arousal. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat, eyeing the man before him with a quiet, desperate pleasure. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to cook for you in my home sometime," he continued, "instead of only delivering food to you.” Will met his gaze, letting the offer settle between them, fragile and hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he said after a beat, a bright red flush creeping into his cheeks. Hannibal nodded, pleased. They stared at one another for a moment longer, letting their nerves settle before Hannibal stood, collecting the now clean plates. He rinsed them carefully before packing them away.

“Would Christmas Eve suit?” he ventured, watching Will’s face for any signs of discomfort. “I don’t have family in the area, and my holidays usually end up a little…”

“Empty,” Will finished for him, moving closer. “I’d like that, Hannibal. Very much.” The doctor breathed down his arousal, dark eyes full of warmth and enjoyment as Will moved towards him. _I wonder... do you understand how delightfully attractive you are in this moment? That I will file it away and examine it every chance I get?_ _What would you do if you_ _knew what I want from you, what I would give you_ , he wondered, his heart in his throat. _I want you to be mine. I want to share all of our lonely nights together._

“I shall prepare a menu,” he finally replied, watching as Will’s face lit up with something very close to joy. His eyes unconsciously dropped to the profiler’s mouth, his heart pounding itself to pieces as Will wet his lower lip with a quick flash of tongue. The sight of Will’s lip shining in the low light was almost enough to undo his careful control. He turned, packing his things away to prevent himself from doing something embarrassing, ruining his chances at more evenings like the one they shared tonight. He felt Will close the distance between them, the heat radiating from the profiler’s body enough to make him shudder.

“I will leave you be for the rest of the evening,” he managed, his voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “I just-”

“Stay.” The single word rang through him, thrumming along Hannibal’s skin like the toll of a bell. He started slightly when arms wound around his stomach, sliding up along his torso until they rested over his heart. “Stay for a while," Will whispered against his back. "Tonight. Please.” Weak kneed, the doctor spun slowly in the loose embrace. Without pause, he took Will’s face in his hands, tilting his mouth to cover it with his own. The world around them fell silent as they kissed in Will’s kitchen, the cold outside pressing in on the windows as they explored each other’s mouths. Their tongues flashed together, sending a wave of pure pleasure cascading down Hannibal’s spine in bright and shining sparks. Will smiled against his lips, pulling back to rest their foreheads together briefly before moving away. 

Will took Hannibal’s hand and lead him, unresisting, to the bedroom, closing the door to ensure they’d have no midnight visitors. The door didn’t open again until morning.


End file.
